


A Normal Meeting

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-05 02:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15160226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: When he’s called to a meeting with his daughter’s school guidance counselor, Spike finds himself very taken with the young blonde. (All human fic with equal parts sass and soppiness. What else would you expect from Spike and Dawn being an official family unit?)





	1. School Hard

Spike was woken by the sound of the food processor being switched on. It did not sit well with his hangover.

“Dawn!” he yelled, before wincing at the sound of his own voice.

“Here!” she said, coming into the living room and setting a mug of coffee down beside where he was sprawled on the couch. “Your snack’s gonna take a little longer.”

“Why aren’t you at school?”

“Because it’s Saturday, ya big goon!”

“Oi! Don’t talk to yer old dad like that.”

“Why?” she asked, pouting.

“Because,” he stated flatly, then lay back down clutching his head.

“Whatever,” said Dawn, heading back towards the kitchen. Once Spike was fed and watered, she decided to break the news. “You, uh…” she began, picking at the hem of her shirt.

Immediately, Spike was on high alert. He could read her like a book, after all. Sitting up properly and gently tilting her chin until she looked him in the eye, he asked what was going on.

“About school…” she said. “You maybe need to come in with me for a meeting.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

“Uh huh.”

“Care to tell me what for?”

“Oh, yeah, um…” she shrugged. “Nothing much. Just a normal meeting.”

“Right,” he said, not bothering to keep the skepticism from his tone. “An’ when is this normal meeting, then?”

“Kinda nowish. We’re a bit late.”

“Bloody hell, Dawn!”

She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “What? It’s not my fault you were hungover!”

“Well, no, but if I’d known I woulda–”

“Whatever. You good enough to drive?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, snatching up his keys.

Dawn went to move past him to the door, but Spike snagged her arm and pulled her into a hug. “Don’ need to act so tough for my benefit, Niblet,” he whispered into her hair.

She smiled then swatted his shoulder. “Stop being mushy.”

“Never,” he vowed, complete with a smile of his own as he released her.

 

\---

 

Spike was staring at Dawn’s guidance counselor like she was an angel. Dawn rolled her eyes, then snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Spike, hello? Spike!”

“Huh? What?” he shook his head. “Not so loud!”

There was more eye-rolling from Dawn, who then looked at her counselor, gestured back at her dad and said, “This is Spike.”

“Uh, hi,” he said, shyly.

Reversing the looks and gestures, Dawn then completed the introductions. “Spike, this is Buffy.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Buffy.

She was actually blushing. Dawn couldn’t believe it. What was with adults and being all annoyingly cute and obvious? Dawn slumped down in a chair loudly, breaking the spell.

Buffy looked at her. “You call your dad by his first name?”

Dawn shrugged. “Everyone else does.”

After a moment’s hesitation at the response, Buffy seemed to accept it and she returned her eyes to Spike. “And is that your real name?”

“It’s what everyone calls me,” he reiterated.

“Right. Are you Dawn’s biological father?’

“Bloody hell!”

Buffy went red in the face again – clearly annoyed with her lack of tact. “Sorry, Mr, uh…”

“Jus’ Spike is fine.”

Buffy nodded. “Mr Spike. I mean–” she put a hand to her forehead. “Sorry, Spike,” she began again. He was smirking at her. “It’s just that you seem so young to have a teenage child.”

“Thanks for the compliment, Pet.”

“A-and Dawn’s mother?” inquired Buffy.

Dawn snorted and both Buffy and Spike looked at her.

“Cecily hasn’t been around in forever,” she explained. “And if you think the freak show of growing up with Drusilla as a step-parent for ten years counted, you’re as insane as she is.”

“Hold your tongue!” Spike chided.

“Make me!” Dawn challenged.

Spike deflated a little under her harsh stare, then turned to Buffy and said, “You’ll have to excuse the Bit. Hasn’t had the best time with female company.”

“The Bit?” Buffy asked, frowning. “Bit of what?”

Spike shrugged. “Me, I guess. It’s jus’ a pet name. Nevermind, why am I here on a Saturday? I’m missing Passio–” he coughed when Dawn hit him in the ribs. “I mean, motorsport.”

Buffy looked back at Dawn who was smiling innocently at her. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?”

“Dawn’s here because she’s been late for every class this semester so far.”

“Bloody hell!” Spike exclaimed again. “That’s a lot, right?”

Ignoring his ignorance, Dawn countered by saying, “I don’t see what the big deal is. You said school was just a factory spewing out mindless little automatons.”

Buffy raised her eyebrow at Spike, who gulped and then answered Dawn, “I _also_ said those automatons went on to became valuable, productive members of society, and that you should go.”

“I did go! Y’know, eventually…”

“Dawn, Spike, I need to look at how we can address this behavior.”

Spike held up his hand to indicate he would deal with it then said to Dawn, “Damn well go to school. And on time!”

Dawn crossed her arms, pouted, then said, “Fine.”

“Sorted,” Spike concluded, a look of triumph on his face as if he expected Buffy to award him a cookie for his success.

“I don’t think–” she began to say, at which he deflated once more.

In earnest, he assured her that if Dawn was given a week, she would prove that the issue was settled.

“Dawn, are you really going to be on time?” Buffy asked her.

“I said fine, didn’t I?”

Spike gave her a small shove and her insincere smile came back on. “I mean, yes, Miss Summers.”

“Uh, good,” said Buffy. “Report back to me in a week, then.”

“Sounds good,” said Spike, rising to his feet. “A week from now at my place. Uh, our place. I mean– me and Dawn, here. We can have a catch up over dinner. Talk about how brilliant my girl is.”

Buffy went back to blushing and incoherent yammering.

“See you in a week, Buffy,” said Dawn, cutting across her before pushing her dad out into the corridor as she loudly exclaimed about how embarrassing he was trying to flirt like that.

She wasn’t sure, but Dawn thought she heard her guidance counselor exclaim a hearty, “Oh boy,” in response.


	2. First Date

“How’s my hair?” Spike asked Dawn as he fiddled with it in the mirror.

“Unchanged since the seventies,” she assured him.

“Funny. Hey,” he turned to look at her. “You’re gonna be nice to yer teacher tonight, right?”

“She’s a guidance counselor, not a teacher, and yes. Good as gold, I swear.”

“That’s my girl!” he exclaimed, beaming, before returning to his reflection.

The door went and Spike opened it, his smile getting even bigger. “Miss Summers. Don’t you look a treat?”

She blushed. “Call me Buffy, please.”

“Sure thing, Sweets.”

Dawn came back up the hallway. “Told him the verdict, yet?”

Spike looked confused for a moment, then seemed to remember the pretext for Buffy’s visit at which he looked at her expectantly.

“Dawn has not been at all of her classes on time,” she said.

Both Spike and Dawn’s faces fell, but Buffy continued. “She’s been _early_.”

“Ha! Yes!” Dawn exclaimed, doing a little dance. “In your face. You _totally_ owe me five bucks.”

Spike glared pointedly at her.

“Oh, umm… I mean, no. You would never bet on your only daughter’s education. Or even at all, because gambling is wrong, and you wouldn’t want to set said daughter a bad example. I’m just going to be in the kitchen, getting your starter.”

 

After Dawn’s swift exit, Spike and Buffy moved into the dining room.

“She’s a good kid,” he was saying.

“Not a kid!” Dawn yelled from the kitchen, which made Buffy smile.

“You’re very good with her,” she commented. “You two are close.”

“Course we are, it’s how dads are, init?”

“Oh, not all dads, believe me.”

Spike suddenly looked forlorn. “Sorry, Pet.”

Buffy’s cheeks flared at having implicitly told a practical stranger about her own poor father figure. Trying to shift the conversation away from herself, she asked how long it had been just the two of them.

“A while,” he admitted. “Few years.”

“That can’t have been easy, for either of you.”

Spike shrugged. “We manage.”

“What happened?” Buffy asked, almost instantly regretting it. She wasn’t usually so forward.

“They cheated,” said Spike, bluntly. “That is the Bit’s mum, and Dru – my other ex.”

“Marriage break up can be tough,” said Buffy, again from personal experience.

“Didn’t marry either of them,” Spike told her in response.

“Oh.” Buffy bit her lip. “Right, sorry.”

“’s okay. How’s about a lighter topic?”

“Sure,” she agreed, smiling as he poured her some wine. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Spike leaned in conspiratorially close and whispered, “Do you watch Passions?”

\---

 

Despite the slight awkward conversation to begin with, the date that wasn’t officially a date was going well. Spike had made Buffy blush six times – he counted – made her almost choke twice on a rude comment his brain failed to filter out, and she’d only offended him three times. A roaring success if ever there was one.

Dawn was apparently getting bored playing hostess and decided to start playing the drums on the kitchen counter using various utensils instead. Spike excused himself to inform her that she’d got the beat slightly off and should try the ladle, instead of the wooden spoon, to correct it.

“That’s, uh… not exactly what I expected,” said Buffy when he returned.

“She’s good, right?”

“Well, yeah, actually. But, you let her do that?”

Spike shrugged. “If it sounds alright, what’s the harm?”

Buffy found she couldn’t find an answer to that. Honestly, the girl did have rhythm.

“I keep tellin’ her she should start a band, but you know kids, never bloody listen.”

Buffy smiled. It was obvious that Dawn adored her father and would walk to the moon and back for him – complaining sarcastically all the way, of course. She gave a wistful sigh, thinking about how it would be nice to have a family like that. Then, when she stopped daydreaming, she saw Spike was looking at her again with those amazingly bright blue eyes of his.

“More wine, Pet?”

“I really shouldn’t. I make for a sloppy drunk.”

It looked like he was going to argue but then hesitated. “You are over twenty-one, right?”

“Yes,” Buffy assured him, quickly adding, “But not by much.”

“Sometimes I forget I’m not in the old country,” Spike admitted. “Law is you have to be eighteen, in England.”

“Huh. Didn’t know that. Have you lived in the US long? Dawn doesn’t sound English at all.”

“Ah, she wouldn’t. Been brought up here all ‘er life. My accent only seems to rub off on ‘er when some wanker pisses her off enough to swear like a sailor.”

Buffy stared at Spike, wide-eyed.

“I mean, not that she ever swears,” he clarified. “Wine?”

“Thank you, but I really shouldn’t. My mom’s sick, and I should be getting–” she paused to look at her watch. “Holy crap, I gotta go!”

Spike rose from his chair as she made a grab for her purse under the table. “Let me drive you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ll get a cab.”

He finally gave up trying to convince her when she reminded him how much wine he had. Like the gentleman he was, he offered to pay for the taxi, though – borrowing the money he’d lost to Dawn back off her again to do so.

They agreed they’d see each other again.


	3. Bump in the Road

Spike and Buffy had been spending a lot of time together. They had been on lots of proper dates, some half-dates, and assorted PTA meetings as an excuse to hang out. He’d sent roses to her work, which made her smile and the principle jealous. Buffy hadn’t even known her boss liked her in that way, beforehand. Things were going really well until, one night:

“I love you.”

“What?”

“I said I love you.”

“Oh. I… Spike–”

He closed his eyes, his teeth biting hard into his bottom lip to distract from the stabbing pain in his chest. He’d had this conversation before – the exact same response – he just never expected it from her.

They were sitting on the couch and had been kissing, but now when she went to put a reassuring hand on his, he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Save it,” he replied.

“No, I really am sorry.”

Looking back at her, he studied her anew. “What is this to you? This thing we have?”

She hesitated.

“Do you even like me?” he pressed.

“Yes! A massive yes to that question!” said Buffy.

That made him feel a little better, but not much. “Is it that I said it too soon?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s not you, it’s… well, me.”

Spike groaned and she apologized again. “Okay, I know how that sounds but–”

He stood up, not able to carry on the conversation a second longer. “Shall I drive you home?”

“Uh, no.” She rose to her feet as well. “It’s okay. You’ve done enough. I should just go.”

“I haven’t been drinking,” he reassured her. “Have cut way back, seeing as you don’t like it. Is that the problem? ‘cause I can stop.”

“No, Spike, that’s not–”

“What’s going on?” asked Dawn, walking into the room. “Yeesh is there tension in here.”

“It’s nothing,” said Spike.

“Nothing at all,” Buffy affirmed. “I’m just going.”

Dawn frowned. “Didn’t you just get here?”

“I, uh…” Buffy looked away. “Yes, actually.”

Calmly – coldly – Spike said, “Dawn, the lady said she was going, you shouldn’t question her.”

“But–”

“Damn it, Dawn. Just drop it!” he snapped.

Both Dawn and Buffy gasped. Spike never spoke to her like that. Ever. It was obvious he instantly regretted it, and he tried to apologize, but Dawn just shoved past him to go to her room.

Without another word, Buffy slipped out and left them to it. There were unshed tears in her eyes as she made her way to hospital…

 

“Hi mom,” she greeted, trying her best to sound cheery.

Joyce sat up, her mom-senses clearly on high alert. “What’s wrong?”

Buffy was halfway through saying “nothing” when a pointed look stopped her. Deflating, she sat down and confessed she’d met a “really amazing guy.”

Before Joyce could prompt her with a, “But…?”, Buffy concluded, “It’s too late, I’ve ruined it.”

“I’m sure you can still fix it, sweetie,” said Joyce. "Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice soft.

“Buffy, you shouldn’t feel ashamed about wanting something.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, aloud, but inwardly she wasn’t sure about the words at all.

Joyce gave her hand a squeeze. “How come you didn’t tell me this before?”

“Well, I…” she shook her head. “It’s not important.”

“Buffy–”

She was getting the look again.

“Okay, okay, so it’s important to me. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I guess I just thought you had enough to be thinking about. God, what am I saying? You have a brain tumor and I’m complaining about the man of my dreams falling in love with me!”

Joyce smiled. “Man of your dreams, eh?”

Buffy shook her head and went back to her original stance. “Not important.”

Joyce sighed, her smile gone again. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You’re going to get better and come home with me, and teach me all those cooking skills that didn’t get passed on naturally, and we’re gonna be happy. Just you and me.”

She said it so well, with such enthusiasm, that she almost convinced herself.

Almost.

The look Joyce gave her turned pitying.

“Really Mom, it’ll all work out.”

“Of course it will,” Joyce agreed finally. “I think I need more rest now. Would you mind getting the curtain?”

Buffy collected herself. “Sure. I’ll stop in tomorrow, after work.”

Joyce smiled at her again. “Thank you, Sweetie. I love you.”

Turning her back, Buffy held back tears and grit out the words, “Love you too,” before making a swift exit.

Outside, as the cool air hit her face, she finally let the mask slip and gave into crying in earnest. “I’m a terrible daughter!” she declared to the parking lot. “A terrible person!”

 

The next day, Dawn went to her guidance counselor’s office.

“Is everything okay?” Buffy asked her – trying not to convey her worry.

“No,” said Dawn simply, throwing her feet up on the desk.

“Right…” said Buffy. _This is going to be a fun conversation._


	4. Breakdown

“Is it ‘cause of me?”

“What?”

“You and my dad breaking up. Is it because of me?”

“Dawn, no. Of course not!” said Buffy.

“Then why?”

“Well, uh…”

Dawn was glaring at her, a cocktail of warring emotions locked in her eyes. Just like her father’s. Buffy swallowed at the sight.

“I’m not a little kid, y’know. You can tell me.”

“I know that. I just… it’s hard, okay?”

“Okay,” said Dawn. “Fine. Whatever it is, I want you to know Spike’s a good guy. The best, actually, but right now he’s major upset and nothing would make him happier than for you to sort it out.”

Buffy was going to speak – to tell her that she wasn’t sure if things _could_ be sorted – but Dawn wasn’t done yet.

“The thing is,” she continued, in a tone completely devoid of her usual sass, “I don’t want you to get back together because you feel bad, or because it would make him feel good, for a little while. Only do it if you mean it, because otherwise he’s gonna end up worse. If the problem really is me then tell me and I’ll change, and if it’s because of him then I’m begging you for another chance. But…” she looked away, took a breath, then snapped her eyes right back up again and drilled them into Buffy’s gaze. “Just please don’t hurt him anymore.”

“Dawn, I–”

She shook her head and exited the office quickly, clearly annoyed with herself for betraying so much vulnerability.

After sitting there for a minute, unable to move or do anything, Buffy then sprung into action herself and went to exit the room just as swiftly. She bumped into the principal on her way, though.

“The school day’s just started,” he said, a frown etched into his forehead as he eyed her coat and handbag in her hands. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

“Family emergency,” she lied, but there must have been enough genuine inner turmoil conveyed in it that he believed her and let her go without another word. He even held the door.

 

\--- 

 

Spike wasn’t drunk when his doorbell chimed, but it was a situation he’d been planning to rectify. Buffy looked at him from his doorstep and he looked right back as she moved past him into the hallway, then they both looked down and gave into an awkward silence.

Buffy broke it first by saying, “I don’t want to hurt you.” When Spike only grunted in reply, she corrected herself: “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Why did you?” he asked.

“Because I’m a coward.”

Despite his reservations, her simple statement made him pay attention to her; made him more willing to at least hear her out, but there were no more words offered.

Clearly it wasn’t easy for her, so Spike tried to ease the tension by gesturing to the living room and suggesting they sit to talk.

Buffy shook her head.

“Bloody hell, give me something to work with,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“Anything! I put myself out there and you’ve all closed up. Why won’t you let me in?” his voice turned pleading and he hated himself for it.

Buffy clenched her fists. “Because I can’t.”

“Why?”

She looked away and gave a half-shrug, the muscles in her hands still tight.

“You’re a damn infuriating woman, you know that? A bloody guidance counselor who has more issues than the teenage population of the high school put together!”

After a breath, Buffy said, “Yeah. It’s a fair estimation.”

“Okay.” Spike took a deep breath to reel in his anger. Not all of it was Buffy’s fault – she was just the last in a long list of lovers who had ultimately rejected him. He tried his best to be fair and only show her the scorn she herself had earned.

“Asking you why you’re pushing me away is too hard,” he summarized. “How about you tell me why you’re here?”

“I…” she began, her voice trembling as she looked deep in his eyes again and reached out to touch her fingertips to his chest. “I want you.”

“No,” said Spike as he grasped her wrist before she touched him.

Clearly shocked by the firmness of his reaction – the rejection of it – she pulled her hand back like she’d been burned.

Spike shook his head. “You don’t get to have me if I don’ get to have you. Not how it works, sweetheart.”

“I’m sor–”

“Stop bloody apologizing!”

“Sorry!” she yelled, and then groaned. “Damn. This is a mess. I should go.”

Spike sneered. “Run away again?”

“This was a mistake.”

“Which bit?”

“The– ugh! I don’t know, Spike. I don’t know anything!”

She was practically on the verge of tears and, despite being resolute earlier for his own sake, he couldn’t bear to see her in pain. He tried to embrace her, but she pulled away.

Like a dog who didn’t know whether to offer puppy dog eyes or growl and bark, Spike just stood there, taking her in, with his head tilted.

“Things with you were good,” said Buffy. “So good. And I want that. I…” she swallowed. “I loved that.”

Ever so softly, Spike asked, “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I’m scared – no, _terrified_ – of ruining that.”

“You can’t ruin something good by adding something else good to it,” Spike reasoned.

Buffy shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t love you. I can’t allow myself to, because everyone I love leaves, or becomes a great big idiot who makes me cry all the time, or ends up dying in a hospital bed. Everyone I love ends up worse because of it, and it’s all my fault, and I won’t let myself love you!”

She almost screamed the last part, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. And although it was killing him to do nothing – to not hold her, or plead with her further – Spike simply gave a small nod and didn’t push her any further. He’d tried trying to talk someone into loving him in the past; into not leaving him. It never worked.

“Buffy, I…” he began, before pausing to skirt around the ‘L’ word. “I _care_ for you. And I want you to work this out, because it’s not right what you’re doin’ to yourself, an’ I wanna be the one to help, but I can’t be.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide in surprise at the last bit.

“The thing is,” he continued. “As much as I’m willing to go through hell if I think it’ll be worth it at the end, me doin’ that drags Dawn there, too. An’ I’m not doin’ that again.”

“I understand,” said Buffy, her voice a whimper.

Spike held the door for her as she left.


	5. Changing

Buffy visited the hospital more often than she did her own home. At least, that’s what it felt like. It had been a week since things with Spike went up in flames and she was heading to see her mom again, telling herself with each step that she was right; that love only messed things up and how her fledgling relationship ended was proof of that.

She was wrong, of course. She knew that, deep down. Things falling apart had been _her_ fault, not love’s, but it didn’t matter. She was refusing to believe it in an effort to hurt not so damn much.

Buffy Summers was utterly determined that she was not going to give into her emotions. ‘Today is the day I don’t cry anymore,’ she told herself firmly.

Her resolve lasted all of ten minutes, until her mom got the all clear and was told she’d be back home in time for the holidays.

Mother and daughter hugged for a long time. Buffy didn’t want to let go at all, but Joyce eventually needed air.

“Tell me all about this man of yours!” she said with glee.

“Oh, umm…” Buffy’s face dropped. “There’s nothing to say, really.”

“Come on, I’ve been waiting to hear this. You said I had to focus on getting better, and now I am. So, spill! You patched things up, right?”

Buffy looked at her shoes.

“Oh, honey!” Joyce exclaimed.

Buffy continued to try and speak – to defend herself – but failed. There was no defense and she knew it. She’d thrown away her chance with a really good guy out of insecurity, faulty logic, and bad past experiences.

“You didn’t even try?”

“I went round there, but– but it…” she shook her head. “It’s just a mess.”

Joyce offered a sad, tightlipped smile as she pulled her daughter in for another hug and stroked her hair. That only made Buffy feel worse, so she was the one to end the embrace that time around.

“I really hurt him, Mom,” she finally admitted. “I knew I was doing it, and I didn’t want to, but it’s like I couldn’t help myself. I don’t deserve to be comforted.”

Joyce looked her deep in the eyes and gave her hand a squeeze. “You are my daughter,” she said. “You are hurting and, despite what mistakes you’ve made, it’ll always be my job to comfort you.”

“But Mom, I–”

“Buffy, are you sorry for what you’ve done?”

She nodded.

“Then fix it.”

“But–”

“No. It’s also my job to correct you. You know you’ve messed up, so stop making excuses and fix it. I’m not saying try to get back together with this man, just… I don’t know. Fix it. You’ll find a way.”

Buffy nodded again, the action more determined this time. Her mom was right, as usual. She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Joyce smiled then ushered her out of the room, only to call her back again.

Buffy turned back around at the door. “Yeah?”

“Actions speak louder than words. Remember that,” said Joyce.

\---

 

“Actions. Actions,” Buffy repeated to herself, on the walk home. “You fix things with actions.”

Suddenly, she knew where she had to go, and she changed direction…

 

“Buffy!” Riley exclaimed, his face full of smug satisfaction.

She held up a hand. “Don’t be getting any ideas. I came here to tell you I’m involved with someone new. Or, getting involved, which is _totally_ not your business. This is just a friendly warning not to pull that macho jealous crap. Firstly, he’s a really sweet guy, and secondly, he has a kid who I really don’t want to get caught up in this. Are we clear? I can’t have you ruining this.” _Especially not after_ I _ruined it._

Her ex’s only answer was a glare. After a long moment, Buffy heaved a sigh and went to leave. As soon as her back was turned, though, he told her he was joining the military.

“Good,” she replied without looking at him again. “It’ll be good for you, I think. Just… be careful, okay?”

Once more, her question was met with silence. She walked out and did go home, that time. It was time for stage two: the harder part.

 

\---

 

After four attempts to lift the phone, Buffy dialed the number and held the handset to her ear, her fear shrinking a little when Spike answered and not Dawn.

“Who’s this?” he asked after a few moments of dead air that followed his initial ‘hello.’

It was now or never. “It’s me,” said Buffy softly.

“Right,” he said.

It was amazing to her how many different emotions could be conveyed in a single word. There was more silence. It was obvious he was waiting for her. Buffy didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“When I was a kid my dad cheated on my mom and he left us both. For years I thought it was my fault, y’know how most kids do in that situation?”

She could almost hear Spike nod down the phone as she imagined him in his hallway, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jeans.

“Well, anyway…” she bit her lip then barreled on. “The one time he visited me since he left, I said that to him. He didn’t tell me I was right to blame myself, or anything, but he didn’t correct me either.”

“Buffy, you don’t need to put yourself over this,” said Spike, his tone weary.

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I mean, you’re right, I _don’t_ need to keep putting myself over it, but I need to put myself through it one last time. I can only move on by releasing it. I want to share it with you, and I want you to understand.”

“Okay,” he said. Again, the single word was laden with a range of emotions. Some conflicting; some Buffy didn't dare name.

“Yeah, so that was blow one for Buffy,” she continued. “A little while later, my mom met this guy called Ted. He, umm…” her breathing sped up. “Let’s just say he made my dad seem like a prince.”

“Did he hurt you?” Spike asked, that question delivered with a single feeling – anger.

Buffy was tempted to lie. “N-not much,” she said instead. “It didn’t last long, when Mom found out. But I was pretty much a wreck, and then my high school boyfriend came along. He told me he loved me, made me feel so safe with him and then–”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, but Spike did it for her. He was a good guesser. “Took your virginity and buggered off, that about it?”

Buffy gulped. “Yeah. And then there was–”

“Bloody hell. Buffy, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can listen to this.”

“Hear me out, please,” she pleaded. “This is the last bit. It’s not as bad.”

Silence returned and she took that as consent to continue, so she did.

“So I had a college boyfriend,” she said. “We got married, actually, but he was all kinds of insecure. It didn’t last long either. I kept going back to this thought that it was all my fault.”

Sorrow dripped heavy from Spike’s voice when he said, “You know it’s not.”

“I know,” she affirmed. “In my head, I know. But my heart’s still all kinds of messed up, y’know?”

“Buffy, I–”

“That thing you said to me?” Buffy pressed on, not pausing for the interruption while she still had a little courage left. “I feel that for you. I just can’t say it right now. I understand if it’s not, but…” she trailed off, more terrified than ever. “Can that be enough for you, for now?” she asked, forcing the words out.

“I’m coming over,” said Spike.


	6. Commitment

When Spike rang Buffy’s doorbell, she was half tempted not to answer it. She was shaking, slightly, when she pushed the temptation aside and pulled the door open. Never before had she felt so vulnerable but, without a word, Spike wrapped her up in his arms and whispered reassurances into her hair, making everything instantly and mercifully better.

The dam inside her broke and she hung onto him for dear life as she released all the tears she had ever repressed into the stretch of t.shirt between his shoulder and neck.

The shaking got worse, and his reassurances more ardent.

What felt like a lifetime later, Spike concluded, “I love you, Buffy. Never gonna leave. Not gonna let you go now. My brave girl, I love you so bloody much.”

Unable to reply verbally, Buffy’s muscles unclenched and she turned limp in his arms. A while after that, when she had some strength back, she tried to pull away but Spike wouldn’t allow it.

“I need you to promise me, Summers, that you’re not gonna go back to bottling this up,” he said, his arms still locked around her.

She nodded, a silent movement of her mouth and nose against his throat as she inhaled the scent of him. It was comforting; like coming home, she thought, or finally finding home for the first time.

Buffy went to speak but was again thwarted.

Spike released her just enough that he could look in her eyes. “Don’t even dare apologize for breaking down like this, you hear me?”

She nodded again and tried for a smile but it wavered.

After one final, “I really bloody love you, Summers,” Spike pressed his lips to hers and she felt all her worries wash aside.

They kissed and kissed and held hands and held each other up until time lost all meaning entirely. At some point in all that, they found themselves on the couch, entangled in each other’s limbs.

Buffy still hadn’t said anything and Spike told her that was okay.

“I know all that stuff you already said was buried deep, an’ that it musta hurt to dig it up, but I’m so proud of you for doin’ it,” he said.

She shook her head and looked away, but he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt her face back towards him.

“I’m not expecting anything from you, other than what you are,” he said firmly. “I can put up with a bloody lot as long as I know you love me.”

“I do,” she said, and he beamed at her.

“That means the world, Pet. An’ when you find the words, I’ll be here. Until then–“ he paused to grasp her hand again. “Until then, I’ll settle for your terms. Won’t push you on it. It’s more than enough to hold you; to have you, fully.”

She smiled back at him – at his words and understanding. As it all overwhelmed her once more, in the best way, she found that the words actually came easy. Like a sacred confession in a safe place, she whispered, “I love you, Spike.”

His eyes widened and she felt herself blush, suddenly shy, but he had to know she meant it and wasn’t just saying it for his sake. Surely it was beyond clear she didn’t throw the words around?

After a long moment and another awestruck smile, he said, almost casually, “That’s a swift turn around.”

“No,” she replied, and his eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “I mean, it’s not new. I…” she blushed again. “I’ve known for a while, I just couldn’t…”

“I understand,” said Spike, his tone serious again, but so gentle at the same time. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Buffy bit her lip before saying, “I want to go through the rest of it – the rest of my life – with you. I know it’s only been–”

Spike caught her up in another kiss, ignoring all the reasons why they shouldn’t get so deep, so fast. It was already too late for all of that.

“Here’s to a fresh start,” he said, as Buffy caught her breath.

She smiled and tackled him onto his back, her chest pressed to his as she looked down at him.

“I can’t wait.”


	7. Omen (Epilogue)

_One Year Later_

Spike’s mum came to visit him and Dawn just before Thanksgiving and was planning to stay until New Year. Not only did it make both of _them_ very happy, but it made Buffy and Joyce elated, too. To borrow a phrase from the refined Englishwoman, she was simply _delightful_. And more than that, she was humble about it, as if she had no idea how much everyone loved her.

If you didn’t know Spike beyond his superficial snark and swagger routine, you would doubt they were really related, and you’d definitely say they had nothing in common. But over the past year, Buffy _had_ got to know her lover even better and had grown to love him even more deeply. She knew his patented bad-boy heart-of-gold intimately and, scarier than that, he knew hers even better again. The weird thing, she discovered, was that she no longer found that kind of vulnerability scary at all. Not with him. And, as if that wasn’t good enough, Anne approved of Buffy, and she downright adored Joyce. They got on like old friends who’d known each other forever.

Everybody loved everybody else and everything was perfect – a realization that gave Buffy a sinking feeling. She told herself not to jinx it, but wasn’t there a saying about pride coming before a fall, or the calm coming in the eye of the storm, or something? Good stuff always coming before bad stuff was the general feeling she was left with, meaning _too much_ good stuff just _had_ to make bad stuff super-inevitable. It was an omen or something.

The good days had been rolling steadily when Buffy made a discovery that first birthed the fear of bad days to come within her. It wasn’t a bad discovery, but that was exactly the point. Too good to be true. Yeah, that was the phrase she was looking for.

“Huh?” She looked up as she heard her name being called.

“Been tryin’ to get your attention for ages, Love. You okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, trying her best for a convincing smile. “Right as rain, whatever that means.”

Spike gave her a look that told her he wasn’t buying into her faux cheeriness, but she got a free pass because there were more pressing matters.

“Remind me how to fold napkins?” he said, twisting one between his fingers. Buffy laughed and the tension in her shoulders eased off a little. He was going for a swan but what he ended up with looked more like a hedgehog. She got up and went to the dining room to sort the rest of them and re-teach him the technique for the sixteenth time. Except, when she followed him into the room, he shut the door and there weren’t any napkins in sight; just candles and rose petals.

She turned to him, her fear back with a vengeance – rising up and filling her gut. Buffy thought she might be sick.

“Huh?” she said for a second time that day, as Spike got down on _both_ knees in front of her. The guy never really did _anything_ by halves, she could give him that. Except that she couldn’t. All she offered was a first-class impersonation of a goldfish as she gaped at him, mouth wide.

‘No, _no_. This can’t be happening!’ she thought frantically, and she wasn’t sure if she said it out loud, too, or if Spike just read it on her face but he suddenly looked very grave and stood up again.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“What? No! How could you say that? I love you!”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she looked down in a bid to control them. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me.”

He took a step back. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“Buffy?”

“No!” Her eyes snapped to his again. “You can’t do this to me! Not now. We’re so happy.” She knew she sounded like a child but she didn’t care.

Spike was looking at her like she was insane. “Buffy, I’m not breaking up with you!”

“Oh, yeah, because you’re the one with the promises, and the love, and now you wanna end things and, wait, what?”

He blinked at her, silent for a moment, and then laughed. He was stood there genuinely laughing at her. She couldn’t believe it.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, trying her best to sound confident, like she already knew and wasn’t the most confused she’d ever been in like… ever.

Spike took her hand and wiped her cheek. “You’re the only woman alive who could be brought somewhere with candles, rose petals, soft music–“

There was a brief pause and she noticed that there actually was music playing. She hadn’t really noticed it over the sound of the tsunami in her stomach.

“The only woman who could have her soul mate down on one knee in front of her–”

“Two knees!” said Buffy.

“Down on _two_ knees,” he allowed. “And jump to the other end of the bleedin’ spectrum of ideas about what’s going on.” After a pause he added, “I think it’s why I love you.”

The goldfish look returned to Buffy’s lips but, before another ‘huh’ could be uttered, Spike spelled out the right way of the situation for her.

“I’m askin’ you to marry me, you daft chit.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh. Oh no. I think I’m gonna throw up!”

Spike’s smile crumbled, but the look of rejection didn’t settle on his features for long as he realized her nausea wasn’t a dramatic metaphor and she literally had to rush to the bathroom.

He held her hair and, when she was done, got her a glass of cold water and rubbed her back. That brought him back to his earlier question – the first one: “Are you okay?”

She looked at him – deathly seriously, like she was decoding a bomb – then exploded into a joyous expression as she exclaimed. “I’m _engaged_!”

Spike beamed at her and hugged her close, then spun her around until she felt ill again. When she calmed down and reassured him she _wasn’t_ going to barf again, he kissed her. The number one thing Buffy loved about Spike, she decided, was that he loved her despite the craziness that was her. Or, as he said earlier, _because_ of it. She burst out laughing.

“I really am special, huh?”

“Yeah, Pet.”

“Can we tell the others?”

Spike smirked, half exasperated, half amused. “You haven’t technically told me, yet.”

“Oh!” said Buffy. “Sorry. Yes!”

Spike’s smile bloomed fully across his face. He held awe in his eyes as he kissed her again and again. “Okay, then,” he said after a minute, before they got too carried away and abandoned everyone else entirely as they slunk off to be alone properly. “Lead the way!”

Buffy did, laughing again when Spike pinched her butt.

Then, as they walked into the lounge and stood before three expectant faces, there was silence. Spike waited a moment, then made his announcement.

“She said yes!”

The room erupted with cheers and clapping. When the noise died down a little, Spike and Buffy embraced once more; kissed more deeply and passionately than ever.

“I love you,” said Buffy.

“Yeah, reckon I quite like you too,” he replied with a wink.

Buffy slapped his arm playfully. “Just for that? No kiss under the mistletoe.”

Spike chuckled.

“Hey, I’m being serious!” Buffy insisted, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

“Sure. Like you could keep your hands off me,” said Spike.

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “I didn’t mention anything about hands.” Then she erupted into giggles as he grabbed her and peppered her faces with kisses.

Dawn was shaking her head at their antics but smiling brightly at the same time. When Buffy had calmed down a little, she leaned in close to _her_ ear.

“Hey Dawn, can you keep a secret?”

Dawn nodded and Buffy smiled at the sudden serious look on her face.

“How would you feel about an addition to the family?”

Dawn’s eyes widened. “Oh my god! We’re getting a puppy?!”

Buffy stared at her, unable to say anything as she held back a snort of laughter. So maybe she wasn’t the _only_ one who jumped to completely the wrong conclusion. She’d explain it to her later.


End file.
